Hi! It's Emily, and I'm going to be coming as often as I can. That was fun! Here's my little wordbank poem:
Hiking Alone
The ground is flat, but sloped
At a forty-five degree
To me.
My shoes are filled with the white
Sand. I raise my hand
And feel the wind go by
Sloped isn’t what I mean
Not rolling hills
Or people’s hair in rollers on dollar bills
The sand on the dune isn’t cold or salty
Or sizzling hot on my feet
But just warm and sweet
So I want to take a photograph
It would be grainy
I’m the silver hallide
I’m the elephant in the room
An archetypal elephant a the room
A dark spot on a photograph
A dark spot on a white sand dune
But I’m climbing,
Rippling circles around after a drop of food coloring
Bloop! Getting closer to the end
of the poem.
I’ll show them an onomatopoeia
in Shakespeare.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Howdy Howdy
Hey, I'm writing this from home on my day off. I wonder if that means I can go in a half hour late on Monday? This does qualify as work, you know.
Last night we had six bright eyed youngsters attend writers night. Chris' friend, Emily, was our new face and I think she had fun. That reminds me, I need to send her an invite to this blog. OK, that's taken care of. Both Hannah and Katie returned after an absence and Luisa and Lauren sat by each other and bonded. Lauren showed off her book art project that I thought was really creative and I can't wait to see the final result.
Our writing exercise required us to incorporate these following words into a piece: elephant, archetype, onomatopoeia, sizzling, dune, silver halides and bloop. Here's mine contribution.
The elephant dropped water
bloop, bloop, bloop
off its trunk into the water hole.
"Bloop," the creature thought
"that's onomatopoeiac."
"I'm an archetype, you know"
the elephant said to the lion
lapping lazily.
"No, you're not. But I am"
The lion looked over at the elephant
he wondered at its bulk
it was like a sand dune
sizzling in the sun.
"If you were covered
in silver halides, elephant,
I'd lay upon you and
you'd have the silhouette
of a lion on your back."
"I'm an archetype," said the elephant.
XKCD
I still don't get tired of going to XKCD and hitting random. It's a great time waster. This one gave me a good chuckle.
Hey, I'm writing this from home on my day off. I wonder if that means I can go in a half hour late on Monday? This does qualify as work, you know.
Last night we had six bright eyed youngsters attend writers night. Chris' friend, Emily, was our new face and I think she had fun. That reminds me, I need to send her an invite to this blog. OK, that's taken care of. Both Hannah and Katie returned after an absence and Luisa and Lauren sat by each other and bonded. Lauren showed off her book art project that I thought was really creative and I can't wait to see the final result.
Our writing exercise required us to incorporate these following words into a piece: elephant, archetype, onomatopoeia, sizzling, dune, silver halides and bloop. Here's mine contribution.
The elephant dropped water
bloop, bloop, bloop
off its trunk into the water hole.
"Bloop," the creature thought
"that's onomatopoeiac."
"I'm an archetype, you know"
the elephant said to the lion
lapping lazily.
"No, you're not. But I am"
The lion looked over at the elephant
he wondered at its bulk
it was like a sand dune
sizzling in the sun.
"If you were covered
in silver halides, elephant,
I'd lay upon you and
you'd have the silhouette
of a lion on your back."
"I'm an archetype," said the elephant.
XKCD
I still don't get tired of going to XKCD and hitting random. It's a great time waster. This one gave me a good chuckle.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Old Skool Dorkiness
If I had a good picture of me and my Commodore 64 I could be featured on this webpage.
If I had a good picture of me and my Commodore 64 I could be featured on this webpage.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Monday, April 06, 2009
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
HOLY BACON IT'S MEGHAN!
SHE WROTE THINGS?! OH MY GOSH.
This is a "Narrative Essay" I had to do for my writing class, aka, "Expository Writing," aka, "gay class," as my neighbor, Brittany shared with a friend over Facebook (it's a computer lab classroom, so we all have personal computers which is REALLY NEAT except conspicuous typing/clicking is conspicuous, alas) which I think is the most hilarious thing ever, for some reason. "Where you headed?" "Oh, to class." "What class is it?" "Gay class." FFFFFFFAHAHHAHAHAHAH OMG WHY IS THAT FUNNY. Like, it's not even "my gay class" or "my gay-ass class" or even any recognisable form of "this class is gay." It's just "gay class," where we are taught to be "gay" in the derogatory sense that has nothing to do with being homosexual. Okay, don't get pissed off, because, really, it's just funny. "Gay class." AHAHAHAH.
I TALK A LOT. GAH. So, the prompt I chose was "a childhood event." Observe:
Summer never used to mean heat, not really, because “heat” wasn’t a real thing. Sweat was a real thing, facial flush was real. That’s what summer meant: a beaded mustache of perspiration and a certain heavy throbbing in your cheeks which signified that your face was now darkly pink all over, except in that thin area under your nose and around your mouth which remained pale and somehow made the redness look ugly. –If only you could be consistently red, like in the cartoons when a character became angry and blew steam out of his ears. His face was entirely, fantastically fire-engine red but entirely his own, nevertheless. Elmer Fudd never looked as though he’d had someone else’s mouth pasted onto his face with a mustache of sweat.
Your hands changed too, in summer; they smelled like metal and a little like asphalt. You thought maybe it was the calluses that smelled that way, the yellow-grey-translucent bumps on your hands from the monkey-bars and the swing set. There were five of them per hand: one at the base of each of your four fingers and one right in the middle of your palm, like a closed eye or stigmata.
No, no. Of course, the skin, the callus didn’t smell that way; the metallic scent was a combination of dirt and dried sweat. You’ll come to understand.
Just as with “heat” and “summer,” you’ll come to know that it’s heat which paints the faraway horizon with wavering lines that shimmer like water and heat which makes you feel heavy and damp, and which makes summer, summer.
But for now, summer means camp. Camp is what happens when parents must continue to go to work, even when children have vacation. You can’t very well stay home on your own, with no one to watch you or your little brother. That would be neglect, you will come to understand. In the meantime, you will go to camp with a number of other children during the summer, and there will be plenty of grownups to keep close watch on you.
Little brothers are not the same as friends, so you must find your own playmates among the numerous bodies. Making friends is hard, you find. Mostly, there is a herd of semi-familiar faces playing some incarnation of freeze-tag or hide-and-seek; girls and girlish-boys scattering the playground’s woodchips with pastel-colored sneakers, brown stick-legs swinging every which way, calling out, singsong; loud, derisive. These are companions enough for the weeks of camp.
Some days, you’re tired of running around, though, so you drop out of the herd in favor of sitting on the sidelines: large wood beams around the perimeter of the playground. You aren’t the only one sitting there, digging idly, abstractly in the wood chips with a wet stick, looking for treasure, maybe. The word “lonely” is another of those which you’ll understand later in life, but don’t quite know in these days. It’s quiet, here on the perimeter. Quiet is okay with you, sometimes.
Today, a boy approached you on the wooden-beamed perimeter. He was almost uniformly red-faced, with a sweat mustache that matched yours. You stared at it for a while, before taking in the rest of him: short, very short red-sun hair, eyes bright in his flushed face, round faced and round bodied, soft, un-calloused hands, pale eyebrows.
He extended to you one hot fist, which none-too gently encircled a wilted stem. It was a clover flower, the sort that are actually made up of tiny white lily-esque blooms, crowded together in the shape of a bumble-bee’s body; a loose, green-white bauble.
“I gave you this flower,” he explained, “because I love you.”
Solemnly, you took the wilted stem and looked at him again, without expectation. He blinked once, and you both breathed together, in silence. He nodded a little. He walked away. It was time for the parents to retrieve their children.
You dropped the flower carefully and went to gather your little brother.
Today, it means little, maybe nothing. But you’ll come to understand someday, probably. Someday.
Weird tense and POV is DFW's fault. Also, the tense change is deliberate...hope the teacher understands that, um.
I like this piece, even for being an assignement-prompt-thinger. This whole event was so strange, looking back... like, that kid's words; he really said it just like I've narrated-- the different tenses in his phrase are so... I don't even know.
Anyway, THAR U GO. Critique much encouraged!
SHE WROTE THINGS?! OH MY GOSH.
This is a "Narrative Essay" I had to do for my writing class, aka, "Expository Writing," aka, "gay class," as my neighbor, Brittany shared with a friend over Facebook (it's a computer lab classroom, so we all have personal computers which is REALLY NEAT except conspicuous typing/clicking is conspicuous, alas) which I think is the most hilarious thing ever, for some reason. "Where you headed?" "Oh, to class." "What class is it?" "Gay class." FFFFFFFAHAHHAHAHAHAH OMG WHY IS THAT FUNNY. Like, it's not even "my gay class" or "my gay-ass class" or even any recognisable form of "this class is gay." It's just "gay class," where we are taught to be "gay" in the derogatory sense that has nothing to do with being homosexual. Okay, don't get pissed off, because, really, it's just funny. "Gay class." AHAHAHAH.
I TALK A LOT. GAH. So, the prompt I chose was "a childhood event." Observe:
"Someday"
Summer never used to mean heat, not really, because “heat” wasn’t a real thing. Sweat was a real thing, facial flush was real. That’s what summer meant: a beaded mustache of perspiration and a certain heavy throbbing in your cheeks which signified that your face was now darkly pink all over, except in that thin area under your nose and around your mouth which remained pale and somehow made the redness look ugly. –If only you could be consistently red, like in the cartoons when a character became angry and blew steam out of his ears. His face was entirely, fantastically fire-engine red but entirely his own, nevertheless. Elmer Fudd never looked as though he’d had someone else’s mouth pasted onto his face with a mustache of sweat.
Your hands changed too, in summer; they smelled like metal and a little like asphalt. You thought maybe it was the calluses that smelled that way, the yellow-grey-translucent bumps on your hands from the monkey-bars and the swing set. There were five of them per hand: one at the base of each of your four fingers and one right in the middle of your palm, like a closed eye or stigmata.
No, no. Of course, the skin, the callus didn’t smell that way; the metallic scent was a combination of dirt and dried sweat. You’ll come to understand.
Just as with “heat” and “summer,” you’ll come to know that it’s heat which paints the faraway horizon with wavering lines that shimmer like water and heat which makes you feel heavy and damp, and which makes summer, summer.
But for now, summer means camp. Camp is what happens when parents must continue to go to work, even when children have vacation. You can’t very well stay home on your own, with no one to watch you or your little brother. That would be neglect, you will come to understand. In the meantime, you will go to camp with a number of other children during the summer, and there will be plenty of grownups to keep close watch on you.
Little brothers are not the same as friends, so you must find your own playmates among the numerous bodies. Making friends is hard, you find. Mostly, there is a herd of semi-familiar faces playing some incarnation of freeze-tag or hide-and-seek; girls and girlish-boys scattering the playground’s woodchips with pastel-colored sneakers, brown stick-legs swinging every which way, calling out, singsong; loud, derisive. These are companions enough for the weeks of camp.
Some days, you’re tired of running around, though, so you drop out of the herd in favor of sitting on the sidelines: large wood beams around the perimeter of the playground. You aren’t the only one sitting there, digging idly, abstractly in the wood chips with a wet stick, looking for treasure, maybe. The word “lonely” is another of those which you’ll understand later in life, but don’t quite know in these days. It’s quiet, here on the perimeter. Quiet is okay with you, sometimes.
Today, a boy approached you on the wooden-beamed perimeter. He was almost uniformly red-faced, with a sweat mustache that matched yours. You stared at it for a while, before taking in the rest of him: short, very short red-sun hair, eyes bright in his flushed face, round faced and round bodied, soft, un-calloused hands, pale eyebrows.
He extended to you one hot fist, which none-too gently encircled a wilted stem. It was a clover flower, the sort that are actually made up of tiny white lily-esque blooms, crowded together in the shape of a bumble-bee’s body; a loose, green-white bauble.
“I gave you this flower,” he explained, “because I love you.”
Solemnly, you took the wilted stem and looked at him again, without expectation. He blinked once, and you both breathed together, in silence. He nodded a little. He walked away. It was time for the parents to retrieve their children.
You dropped the flower carefully and went to gather your little brother.
Today, it means little, maybe nothing. But you’ll come to understand someday, probably. Someday.
Weird tense and POV is DFW's fault. Also, the tense change is deliberate...hope the teacher understands that, um.
I like this piece, even for being an assignement-prompt-thinger. This whole event was so strange, looking back... like, that kid's words; he really said it just like I've narrated-- the different tenses in his phrase are so... I don't even know.
Anyway, THAR U GO. Critique much encouraged!
Monday, March 30, 2009
An Offer
On Wednesday April 29th, in honor of National Poetry Month, we will be having a reading here by Irene Blair Honeycutt. She was a teacher of mine at CPCC and she is an excellent poet and a great reader. She's also very generous and has agreed to allow a few members of this writers club to read before her that night. There, the invitation has been made. Anyone interested?
If anyone is in contact with Clare and Pippin please let them know about this also. They are included in this invitation.
On Wednesday April 29th, in honor of National Poetry Month, we will be having a reading here by Irene Blair Honeycutt. She was a teacher of mine at CPCC and she is an excellent poet and a great reader. She's also very generous and has agreed to allow a few members of this writers club to read before her that night. There, the invitation has been made. Anyone interested?
If anyone is in contact with Clare and Pippin please let them know about this also. They are included in this invitation.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Meeting this Thursday
Hey, this is the monthly reminder that we are meeting this Thursday at the Morrison Regional Library at 6 pm. We may even have another new member and if we get the usual turnout we should have a good time. This time I am going to prepare green tea in lieu of swag. We didn't get many donations this month worthy of handing out.
Can I get an early "yup, I'm coming" from a few of you?
Hey, this is the monthly reminder that we are meeting this Thursday at the Morrison Regional Library at 6 pm. We may even have another new member and if we get the usual turnout we should have a good time. This time I am going to prepare green tea in lieu of swag. We didn't get many donations this month worthy of handing out.
Can I get an early "yup, I'm coming" from a few of you?
Le Guin Interview
Did anyone listen to that Le Guin interview? It was really good. I didn't realize until the interview started that she was interviewed by China Mieville.
Did anyone listen to that Le Guin interview? It was really good. I didn't realize until the interview started that she was interviewed by China Mieville.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Hugo Nominations Announced
You can see the list here. I've only read one book on the list, Little Brother, and I'm pulling for that one. I was wondering if a YA novel has ever won the Hugo for best novel and I see back in 2001 a Harry Potter book won.
You can see the list here. I've only read one book on the list, Little Brother, and I'm pulling for that one. I was wondering if a YA novel has ever won the Hugo for best novel and I see back in 2001 a Harry Potter book won.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Ursula Le Guin on the BBC
It's being broadcast pretty early tomorrow but I would think it will be archived. I'll have to try and give this a listen.
It's being broadcast pretty early tomorrow but I would think it will be archived. I'll have to try and give this a listen.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The Most Linked to Sites
Technorati has posted a list of the site most linked to by the blogs they track. Surprisingly, this blog doesn't appear on that list. I can't understand why.
Technorati has posted a list of the site most linked to by the blogs they track. Surprisingly, this blog doesn't appear on that list. I can't understand why.
Monday, March 09, 2009
New Web Project
I find this new project to be very intriguing. A website that actually answers factual questions rather than doing a basic web search. As a librarian this could be really helpful with some questions. For example, we often get a teenagers that come to the desk and say something like "I need to do a report on Anthony III." And I'll have to do a reference interview to determine just who exactly Anthony III is before I can continue. Sometimes there may be more than one Anthony III. If I can type "Who is Anthony III" into this new tool and get a quick answer then I'll know where to begin my real research.
I find this new project to be very intriguing. A website that actually answers factual questions rather than doing a basic web search. As a librarian this could be really helpful with some questions. For example, we often get a teenagers that come to the desk and say something like "I need to do a report on Anthony III." And I'll have to do a reference interview to determine just who exactly Anthony III is before I can continue. Sometimes there may be more than one Anthony III. If I can type "Who is Anthony III" into this new tool and get a quick answer then I'll know where to begin my real research.
Short Short Story by Swanwick
This story will take you all of thirty seconds to read but I guarantee it will blow your mind, dude.
This story will take you all of thirty seconds to read but I guarantee it will blow your mind, dude.
Monday, March 02, 2009
My Story From Last Meeting
(Loosely based on an episode of "Beavis and Butthead")
My random words are "hide" and "dude"
"Are there worse things than this?"
"Yes"
"Are there stranger things than this?"
"Yes"
There was a pause as the two friends huddled by the looming, metal vents on the roof of "Papa Squid's Burger Joint."
"Can you think of them, by any chance?" Romero Rickenbaugh asked, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Hot air smelling of cobwebs and french fries drifted lazily from the vents, tussling Joey Franké's frizzy red hair as he pondered Romero's question. All he could do was shrug.
"Do you remember those books we read in health class? They taught us all about safe sex, the food pyramid, puberty, and never to smoke weed, right? But then this comes along...and we've got no idea what to do."
As sweat broke out across Romero's forehead, Joey Franké could only laugh absentmindedly. "It seems kinda obvious, don't it?" he said. "You've just gotta hide, dude. After he finds us, who knows?"
Mr. Shtoonk's footsteps echoed on the bricks of the roof as he lumbered over with his hands in his pockets, grinning maliciously. "Turn around and show some iron, boys" he drawled, sounding uncannily like John Wayne. The smell of cheap ketchup smeared across his face and his scalp with hair torn wantonously off filled Romero's nostrils. "Saddle up, pilgrim!" He drew a handful of sporks from his pocket.
For the billionth time that evening, Romero Rickenbaugh wondered how drinking that cup of Red Bull and Hamburger drippings could have made Mr. Shtoonk act that strange. As scared as he was, Romero thought the image of his boss wrestling him to the ground with a handful of sporks while yelling "Take 'em to Missouri!" was pretty comical. The slamming of sporks against his head didn't even hurt....much. Romero knew his boss would be alright in the morning...and then, another day of flipping burgers would begin.
(Loosely based on an episode of "Beavis and Butthead")
My random words are "hide" and "dude"
"Are there worse things than this?"
"Yes"
"Are there stranger things than this?"
"Yes"
There was a pause as the two friends huddled by the looming, metal vents on the roof of "Papa Squid's Burger Joint."
"Can you think of them, by any chance?" Romero Rickenbaugh asked, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Hot air smelling of cobwebs and french fries drifted lazily from the vents, tussling Joey Franké's frizzy red hair as he pondered Romero's question. All he could do was shrug.
"Do you remember those books we read in health class? They taught us all about safe sex, the food pyramid, puberty, and never to smoke weed, right? But then this comes along...and we've got no idea what to do."
As sweat broke out across Romero's forehead, Joey Franké could only laugh absentmindedly. "It seems kinda obvious, don't it?" he said. "You've just gotta hide, dude. After he finds us, who knows?"
Mr. Shtoonk's footsteps echoed on the bricks of the roof as he lumbered over with his hands in his pockets, grinning maliciously. "Turn around and show some iron, boys" he drawled, sounding uncannily like John Wayne. The smell of cheap ketchup smeared across his face and his scalp with hair torn wantonously off filled Romero's nostrils. "Saddle up, pilgrim!" He drew a handful of sporks from his pocket.
For the billionth time that evening, Romero Rickenbaugh wondered how drinking that cup of Red Bull and Hamburger drippings could have made Mr. Shtoonk act that strange. As scared as he was, Romero thought the image of his boss wrestling him to the ground with a handful of sporks while yelling "Take 'em to Missouri!" was pretty comical. The slamming of sporks against his head didn't even hurt....much. Romero knew his boss would be alright in the morning...and then, another day of flipping burgers would begin.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Last Night's Exercise
We had four in attendance last night. We have lost a lot of our regulars because they got old but we have a nice second round of regulars showing up. Grace seems to have fallen off the face of the Earth and Luisa couldn't make it at the last second.
Our exercise was a couple of random words drawn from a pile. We had all contributed two words to the pile. My words were "funky" and "taco." What I wrote was so silly that I think it deserves to be shared with the world.
Funk Taco
Roger drove up to the Taco Bell and stopped next to the talking menu. He looked it over. He knew he wanted a Meximelt, for sure. Meximelts had that August-at-noon dumpster taste that he loved. A Meximelt was a given but he craved variety in his meal. A bagful of Meximelts wouldn't cut it today. He needed more. Maybe a 7 Layer Burrito. 7 Layers come with rice. He'd never get the level of heartburn that said "I overindulged at Taco Bell if he ate rice. Hmmm...the Big Beef Burrito. The triple B never let him down. You could get a steak version of the Triple B. The streak was low grade, to be sure, but not as low grade as the ground beef that came on the regular Big Beef Burrito. He could get heartburn so severe with two Meximelts and one Big Beef Burrito that he would be forced to lie down and breath slowly and wait until his body decided it was time to head to the bathroom.
He was prepared to order the two Meximelts and one Big Beef Burrito but he saw a new item on the menu that intrigued him. It was in the bottom left corner. It was a monkey-brown colored taco with arms and legs that was either dancing with or hugging a giant cup of Mountain Dew. It was called the Funky Taco. He was scratching his chin and pondering what might a Funky Taco be when the speaker in the menu spoke.
"Thank you for bzzzsking Taco Bell. May I help?" said a bored teenager.
"Uh yeah," Replied Roger. "What's in a Funky Taco?"
"Baby skrrrtzz."
"Baby what?"
"Skrrrzzty squirrels."
"Do you recommend them?"
"How bad a case of heartburn do you want?"
"Really bad. So bad I can take the rest of the day off and crash on my couch and watch TV."
"What else you gettin?"
"Two Meximelts."
"OK, add three Funky Tacos and you'll wish you were dead."
"Perfect."
We had four in attendance last night. We have lost a lot of our regulars because they got old but we have a nice second round of regulars showing up. Grace seems to have fallen off the face of the Earth and Luisa couldn't make it at the last second.
Our exercise was a couple of random words drawn from a pile. We had all contributed two words to the pile. My words were "funky" and "taco." What I wrote was so silly that I think it deserves to be shared with the world.
Funk Taco
Roger drove up to the Taco Bell and stopped next to the talking menu. He looked it over. He knew he wanted a Meximelt, for sure. Meximelts had that August-at-noon dumpster taste that he loved. A Meximelt was a given but he craved variety in his meal. A bagful of Meximelts wouldn't cut it today. He needed more. Maybe a 7 Layer Burrito. 7 Layers come with rice. He'd never get the level of heartburn that said "I overindulged at Taco Bell if he ate rice. Hmmm...the Big Beef Burrito. The triple B never let him down. You could get a steak version of the Triple B. The streak was low grade, to be sure, but not as low grade as the ground beef that came on the regular Big Beef Burrito. He could get heartburn so severe with two Meximelts and one Big Beef Burrito that he would be forced to lie down and breath slowly and wait until his body decided it was time to head to the bathroom.
He was prepared to order the two Meximelts and one Big Beef Burrito but he saw a new item on the menu that intrigued him. It was in the bottom left corner. It was a monkey-brown colored taco with arms and legs that was either dancing with or hugging a giant cup of Mountain Dew. It was called the Funky Taco. He was scratching his chin and pondering what might a Funky Taco be when the speaker in the menu spoke.
"Thank you for bzzzsking Taco Bell. May I help?" said a bored teenager.
"Uh yeah," Replied Roger. "What's in a Funky Taco?"
"Baby skrrrtzz."
"Baby what?"
"Skrrrzzty squirrels."
"Do you recommend them?"
"How bad a case of heartburn do you want?"
"Really bad. So bad I can take the rest of the day off and crash on my couch and watch TV."
"What else you gettin?"
"Two Meximelts."
"OK, add three Funky Tacos and you'll wish you were dead."
"Perfect."
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Testing, Testing...1...2...3
Playing with embedding pictures for a class I am going to do in April. How about a shot of me getting ready to get on the bus and leave for bootcamp in 1986. I'm 18.
How about a miniature dachshund in a light box?
Have I posted that before? Probably. Sorry.
Playing with embedding pictures for a class I am going to do in April. How about a shot of me getting ready to get on the bus and leave for bootcamp in 1986. I'm 18.
 |
| From All we need is Blog? |
How about a miniature dachshund in a light box?
Have I posted that before? Probably. Sorry.
The Hobbit
I found an interesting project that an artist is sharing via his blog. When he saw the Lord of the Rings movies he found that he lost some of the mental images he had of the books. He didn't dislike the films but it saddened him that he lost some of what he personally brought to the books. Now he's heard that there will soon be a movie version of the Hobbit directed by the guy that brought us Pan's Labyrinth. He has decided to paint some of his favorite scenes from the Hobbit as he sees them now so he doesn't lose them when the movie comes out. You can view his project here. I hope I haven't posted that here before.
I found an interesting project that an artist is sharing via his blog. When he saw the Lord of the Rings movies he found that he lost some of the mental images he had of the books. He didn't dislike the films but it saddened him that he lost some of what he personally brought to the books. Now he's heard that there will soon be a movie version of the Hobbit directed by the guy that brought us Pan's Labyrinth. He has decided to paint some of his favorite scenes from the Hobbit as he sees them now so he doesn't lose them when the movie comes out. You can view his project here. I hope I haven't posted that here before.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
A couple of things
It's been about two years since I posted anything here. I've actually been busy. I am teaching a eBay Basics class tonight and I spent the last week revising the handout and doing that makes my brain hurt.
I did found out today that the Virginia Quarterly Review is putting a bunch of it archives online. You can read about that here. First search I am going to do? Donald Hall, of course.
There is a great science fiction short short story on the New Yorker's website here. It has a great twist on the first contact/alien invasion story.
It's been about two years since I posted anything here. I've actually been busy. I am teaching a eBay Basics class tonight and I spent the last week revising the handout and doing that makes my brain hurt.
I did found out today that the Virginia Quarterly Review is putting a bunch of it archives online. You can read about that here. First search I am going to do? Donald Hall, of course.
There is a great science fiction short short story on the New Yorker's website here. It has a great twist on the first contact/alien invasion story.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Let's pause for some whale evolution
It turns out that whales didn't start giving birth in the water until later than was currently thought. More here. Write about whale evolution. How's that for a prompt?
It turns out that whales didn't start giving birth in the water until later than was currently thought. More here. Write about whale evolution. How's that for a prompt?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
John Updike
As a librarian I feel it is my duty to say something in regards to the death of the great American writer, John Updike. It was two years ago that I read my first Updike book. I read the first book that featured his famous character, Rabbit. The novel is called Rabbit Run. I found his writing to be good almost beyond compare. It is so good that more than once I stopped reading and took a second to appreciate the genius of the writing. Like Steinbeck, not only is his skill at a level few of us ever approach, it is also accessible. Great writing doesn't have to be difficult, just great.
As a librarian I feel it is my duty to say something in regards to the death of the great American writer, John Updike. It was two years ago that I read my first Updike book. I read the first book that featured his famous character, Rabbit. The novel is called Rabbit Run. I found his writing to be good almost beyond compare. It is so good that more than once I stopped reading and took a second to appreciate the genius of the writing. Like Steinbeck, not only is his skill at a level few of us ever approach, it is also accessible. Great writing doesn't have to be difficult, just great.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Frederik Pohl on Arthur C. Clarke
I just found out from John Scalzi's blog that Frederik Pohl has a blog. I think a good place to start is his remembrance of his friend and collaborator, Arthur C. Clarke. I read the book they worked on together, The Last Theorem. I had wondered how much of the writing was done by Clarke and how much by Pohl. His long and entertaining entry answers that question.
I just found out from John Scalzi's blog that Frederik Pohl has a blog. I think a good place to start is his remembrance of his friend and collaborator, Arthur C. Clarke. I read the book they worked on together, The Last Theorem. I had wondered how much of the writing was done by Clarke and how much by Pohl. His long and entertaining entry answers that question.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
Another Call for Submissions
This is for 7th, 8th and 9th graders. It's a tie in for that dog book/movie Marley and Me. You can view the guidelines here.
This is for 7th, 8th and 9th graders. It's a tie in for that dog book/movie Marley and Me. You can view the guidelines here.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Formatting
If anyone ever needs to convert a document into a file format that they do not have the software available for then feel free to email me the document and I will convert it for you. Also, you might investigate Open Office. You can save documents in multiple formats with Open Office. Remember that the library has computers with MS Word if you need to have document in that format and you don't want to send the document to me.
If anyone ever needs to convert a document into a file format that they do not have the software available for then feel free to email me the document and I will convert it for you. Also, you might investigate Open Office. You can save documents in multiple formats with Open Office. Remember that the library has computers with MS Word if you need to have document in that format and you don't want to send the document to me.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Two calls for submissions
This website is calling for short stories from writers between the ages of 13 and 19. The prize is a Visa gift card and there are only a couple of days left.
If you have a problem with evolution then there is an essay contest here. I almost didn't post that one but the prize is $500.
This website is calling for short stories from writers between the ages of 13 and 19. The prize is a Visa gift card and there are only a couple of days left.
If you have a problem with evolution then there is an essay contest here. I almost didn't post that one but the prize is $500.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Another call for submissions
Melanie has forwarded me another call for submissions by high school students. You can view the information here.
Melanie has forwarded me another call for submissions by high school students. You can view the information here.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Well, Ed, I don't think you have much reason to complain about participation at that LAST meeting. We pwn the world. And since there is no mention of eyes in our newest pass-around story, enjoy:
"You like knitting neddles?"
"I," she paused. "What has that got to do with anything?"
"I don't know..."
"Well...psychologists say that knowing something like that about a person says something about them, like..."
They need to do serious time in Bedlam.
Which is England, as we have learned, where knitting is a common hobby.
"Well, I suppose I am English, therefore I knit, therefore I like knitting needles...why would it matter?"
"So you like to knit which means you like knitting needles. Though I suppose you could enjoy knitting and hate knitting needles which is like being a Beatles fan and thinking Paul McCartney is a wanker."
"Pardon, sir?" she said.
"Paul McCartney is a wanker."
She jumped up, brandishing a knife she'd taken from who-knows-where. "You take that back!" she screamed.
"NEVER!!!"
Paul McCartney then stepped out politely and coughed. "'Scuse me?"
At the very words, a swarm of fighter jets swooped in, a screech breaking the conversation. "The code word was Benny, boys! Idiots."
Then Gary Oldman walked in.
He was dressed like Batman's sidekick Robin(epic fail, Gary Oldman is the COMMISSIONER) and he looked like he had just woke(n -->epic fail again, Ed, wrong tense) up but needed a nap.
"Everyone!" he pulled the cape over his shoulder and yelled, "I am the night, I am Batman!" It turned out it was not Gary Oldman, it was
Tim Roth.
WIN.
"You like knitting neddles?"
"I," she paused. "What has that got to do with anything?"
"I don't know..."
"Well...psychologists say that knowing something like that about a person says something about them, like..."
They need to do serious time in Bedlam.
Which is England, as we have learned, where knitting is a common hobby.
"Well, I suppose I am English, therefore I knit, therefore I like knitting needles...why would it matter?"
"So you like to knit which means you like knitting needles. Though I suppose you could enjoy knitting and hate knitting needles which is like being a Beatles fan and thinking Paul McCartney is a wanker."
"Pardon, sir?" she said.
"Paul McCartney is a wanker."
She jumped up, brandishing a knife she'd taken from who-knows-where. "You take that back!" she screamed.
"NEVER!!!"
Paul McCartney then stepped out politely and coughed. "'Scuse me?"
At the very words, a swarm of fighter jets swooped in, a screech breaking the conversation. "The code word was Benny, boys! Idiots."
Then Gary Oldman walked in.
He was dressed like Batman's sidekick Robin(epic fail, Gary Oldman is the COMMISSIONER) and he looked like he had just woke(n -->epic fail again, Ed, wrong tense) up but needed a nap.
"Everyone!" he pulled the cape over his shoulder and yelled, "I am the night, I am Batman!" It turned out it was not Gary Oldman, it was
Tim Roth.
WIN.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Poetry Competition
Hey, I just recieved a flyer in the interoffice mail about a poetry competiton sponsored by the Lanier Library of Tryon, NC. It's called the Sidney Lanier Poetry Award. You can view information on it here. They even have a category for high school students.
Hey, I just recieved a flyer in the interoffice mail about a poetry competiton sponsored by the Lanier Library of Tryon, NC. It's called the Sidney Lanier Poetry Award. You can view information on it here. They even have a category for high school students.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
A list of lists
Every year I go to this website for his annual lists of annual lists. I'm a big fan of year ending lists and this site lists, if not all, then enough.
Every year I go to this website for his annual lists of annual lists. I'm a big fan of year ending lists and this site lists, if not all, then enough.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Howdy Howdy
If you are interested the New York Times has published their best books of the year list here. I have only read one book on that list and I am only 100 pages into it. I am currently reading the book "Dark Side" about the Bush administration. I won't go into politics here but I am sure you can tell by the title that it is not a book that takes a favorable view of President Bush and his people.
By the way, don't forget that we are meeting this month on Monday, December 22nd. I would like to hear who can make it ahead of time this month. If we are not going to have a full group I will cancel this month's meeting a start over in January. Who is in?
If you are interested the New York Times has published their best books of the year list here. I have only read one book on that list and I am only 100 pages into it. I am currently reading the book "Dark Side" about the Bush administration. I won't go into politics here but I am sure you can tell by the title that it is not a book that takes a favorable view of President Bush and his people.
By the way, don't forget that we are meeting this month on Monday, December 22nd. I would like to hear who can make it ahead of time this month. If we are not going to have a full group I will cancel this month's meeting a start over in January. Who is in?
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Life Magazine Photographs
I know this has very little to do with writing but I had to share this with you. I've been messing with it for over a week now and it's a gold mine. Google has teamed up with Life Magazine to archive and host the magazine's photo archive. It's amazing and you can lose an hour pretty quickly by doing searches on things that interest you.
For example:
Robert Frost with an ax
T.S. Eliot at his desk.
John Steinbeck with his dog.
Gore Vidal has his morning tea.
And finally, Willie Mays ducking a bean ball. Look out, Willie!!
I know this has very little to do with writing but I had to share this with you. I've been messing with it for over a week now and it's a gold mine. Google has teamed up with Life Magazine to archive and host the magazine's photo archive. It's amazing and you can lose an hour pretty quickly by doing searches on things that interest you.
For example:
Robert Frost with an ax
T.S. Eliot at his desk.
John Steinbeck with his dog.
Gore Vidal has his morning tea.
And finally, Willie Mays ducking a bean ball. Look out, Willie!!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Our last meeting was the weirdest meeting ever cause there were alone 4 people there. Me(hannah), jake, katie, and ed. for half of the time we read and talked and did the exercise. And the other half we spent in ed office eating suckers(which people from the north call them like me and people from the south call them lollipops) and we got free books and free bookmarks!
pip pip cheerio peace out
--Hannah
pip pip cheerio peace out
--Hannah
Monday, November 24, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
New Online Journal Wants Stuff
Hey, got something that is ready for submission? Check out this brand spanking new journal.
Hey, got something that is ready for submission? Check out this brand spanking new journal.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
The Poet President
Obama wrote poetry when he was younger. I wonder if he still does now. According to the article he was 19 when these were published in one of them student literary magazines. The article is here and the poems are at the end of the story.
Obama wrote poetry when he was younger. I wonder if he still does now. According to the article he was 19 when these were published in one of them student literary magazines. The article is here and the poems are at the end of the story.
Have you seen the white whale?
No, not New Gingrich, I am referring to the original white whale, ya'll: Moby Dick. Is anyone here interested in an online annotated version of Herman Melville's classic? You know I read that book when I was way too young to understand it. I should read it again. Who wants to start a discussion group?
No, not New Gingrich, I am referring to the original white whale, ya'll: Moby Dick. Is anyone here interested in an online annotated version of Herman Melville's classic? You know I read that book when I was way too young to understand it. I should read it again. Who wants to start a discussion group?
Friday, November 07, 2008
Howdy From Charleston
I am in Charleston for a conference. It's my first conference and I sat through a couple of informative presentations yesterday. The one on the trouble with verifying the authority of content on the internet was especially good. This blog was not mentioned. I took some pictures yesterday and thought I would share them.
The city's famous bridge. It's beautiful
Me at the Battery. A great park at the southern tip of Charleston.
A sunset view of the city from across the river. Found this by accident, just driving around.
Fort Sumter. I think it's Fort Sumter. It was in the right spot.
A panorama of a view of the city from across the river.
My ladyfriend, Melanie, standing in front of the city at dusk.
I am in Charleston for a conference. It's my first conference and I sat through a couple of informative presentations yesterday. The one on the trouble with verifying the authority of content on the internet was especially good. This blog was not mentioned. I took some pictures yesterday and thought I would share them.
The city's famous bridge. It's beautiful
Me at the Battery. A great park at the southern tip of Charleston.
A sunset view of the city from across the river. Found this by accident, just driving around.
Fort Sumter. I think it's Fort Sumter. It was in the right spot.
A panorama of a view of the city from across the river.
My ladyfriend, Melanie, standing in front of the city at dusk.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Friday, October 31, 2008
More Early Voting
Early voting is now completely out of control. The line stretches around the front of the building as you can see below and then curves around into the parking lot on the side of the building which you can see in the following pictures. Craziness. The wait is at least two hours.
Early voting is now completely out of control. The line stretches around the front of the building as you can see below and then curves around into the parking lot on the side of the building which you can see in the following pictures. Craziness. The wait is at least two hours.
 |
| From Drop Box |
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Here is my poem from October's teen writers night:
As I was reading that poem about all the food
I reach for some of my left over chinese food
But as I look at it
I am no longer hungry
So I sit and stare at my withering flowers
And now I am going to bed
And wait for the birds to sing in the morning
By--Hannah
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Shared Story
Always a highlight, these are.
There was an eyeball on the floor.
It happened to be sitting in the eye socket of a distressed young man named Bob, who was face down on the floor, nose flattened, as the black-suited men kicked his abdomen viciously.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, through adrenaline in his veins, he pushed himself up and escaped only to drop from 20 stories.
The young man stood, wobbily on his feet...for some reason, he couldn't see through one eye..then he felt someone his shoulder...and a tiny voice spoke to him: "Buddy, you really need to clean your floor!"
"Sorry," he said but couldn't see anything out of his right eye. Suddenly his loose eye fell on the floor beside him.
He fell to his knees searching for his eye. "Hey over here buddy," the right eye called to him. Then he stumbled and felt something squish under his feet.
Always a highlight, these are.
There was an eyeball on the floor.
It happened to be sitting in the eye socket of a distressed young man named Bob, who was face down on the floor, nose flattened, as the black-suited men kicked his abdomen viciously.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, through adrenaline in his veins, he pushed himself up and escaped only to drop from 20 stories.
The young man stood, wobbily on his feet...for some reason, he couldn't see through one eye..then he felt someone his shoulder...and a tiny voice spoke to him: "Buddy, you really need to clean your floor!"
"Sorry," he said but couldn't see anything out of his right eye. Suddenly his loose eye fell on the floor beside him.
He fell to his knees searching for his eye. "Hey over here buddy," the right eye called to him. Then he stumbled and felt something squish under his feet.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Alright. Prolly none of you have any clue what this poem is going on about, but Ed asked me to post it 'cause we did these in an exercise at the meeting, so enjoy anyway:
snowflakes drifting onto the bark,
huddling under the ridges
and fruit tumbles from his hand
dislodges the cold white dust from the log
as it bounces off and onto the ground
Kvothe
tattered clothing, hunting knife, ivory skin
dull eyes
freezing mist hanging all around him
everything gone, taken
even the inn...
even Bast.
Yes, it is a fanfiction poem, but I swear there aren't any spoilers, only one book of this trilogy out. The book is, by the way, The Name of Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. READ IT, GODDAMN YOU. It's his frikkin' debut novel and is in the fantasy genre and it's effing brilliant. I think that says something about him.
snowflakes drifting onto the bark,
huddling under the ridges
and fruit tumbles from his hand
dislodges the cold white dust from the log
as it bounces off and onto the ground
Kvothe
tattered clothing, hunting knife, ivory skin
dull eyes
freezing mist hanging all around him
everything gone, taken
even the inn...
even Bast.
Yes, it is a fanfiction poem, but I swear there aren't any spoilers, only one book of this trilogy out. The book is, by the way, The Name of Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. READ IT, GODDAMN YOU. It's his frikkin' debut novel and is in the fantasy genre and it's effing brilliant. I think that says something about him.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Meeting Tomorrow
Just wanted to remind everyone that we are meeting tomorrow at 6pm at the Carmel Library. I say again, the Carmel library. You can get information on the branch here.
Don't forget to bring something to read and I hope to see ya'll there. We will also have to discuss our November and December meetings. The fourth Thursday of the month isn't going to work out in those two months for some reason. I think there are a couple of holidays? Some kind of feast and a festival of light, I believe.
Just wanted to remind everyone that we are meeting tomorrow at 6pm at the Carmel Library. I say again, the Carmel library. You can get information on the branch here.
Don't forget to bring something to read and I hope to see ya'll there. We will also have to discuss our November and December meetings. The fourth Thursday of the month isn't going to work out in those two months for some reason. I think there are a couple of holidays? Some kind of feast and a festival of light, I believe.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Howdy Howdy
Well, it's been seven days since something awesome has been posted on this blog and, after I post the poem I am about to post, it will still be seven days since someone posted something awesome on this blog. This poem is untitled. Some say that a poem without a title shows a lack of inspiration. I say those people can take a long walk off a short pier.
My old teacher
writes of her brother's passing.
I can feel the ache,
the fear,
when I see my Mother's gray hair,
the Mother that made my friend's swoon
when she was dolled up and fine at 40
arriving at a school function.
Well, it's been seven days since something awesome has been posted on this blog and, after I post the poem I am about to post, it will still be seven days since someone posted something awesome on this blog. This poem is untitled. Some say that a poem without a title shows a lack of inspiration. I say those people can take a long walk off a short pier.
My old teacher
writes of her brother's passing.
I can feel the ache,
the fear,
when I see my Mother's gray hair,
the Mother that made my friend's swoon
when she was dolled up and fine at 40
arriving at a school function.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Ok last post before I go back to homework I am clearly avoiding...there were some quotes that I liked and wrote down and I wanted to put it on here.
"Always be sincere even if you don't mean it" (3rd fsavorite)
"I married beneath me. All woman do" (My favorite)
"Procastination is the art of keepng up with yesterday" (2nd favorite)
Now that that's out of the way, where are my textbooks.....???
"Always be sincere even if you don't mean it" (3rd fsavorite)
"I married beneath me. All woman do" (My favorite)
"Procastination is the art of keepng up with yesterday" (2nd favorite)
Now that that's out of the way, where are my textbooks.....???
Hello to anyone who actually reads the blog (besides you ed) I was finally able to sort out some of my account stuff (I couldn't log in) and want to post the poem I wrote at the meeting last week.
Our prompt was to write a poem that begins and ends with a quote we founf from Ed's quote books. My quote was by James Branch Cabell.
I am willing to taste any drink once
it is not what is expectedof me
I know litte therefor dare
not take any risk at all
But when I can I will try
Anything at all
I'd have my litlle of
confidence and ego
No matter how much pain
my person goes through
I am willing to taste any drink once
Our prompt was to write a poem that begins and ends with a quote we founf from Ed's quote books. My quote was by James Branch Cabell.
I am willing to taste any drink once
it is not what is expectedof me
I know litte therefor dare
not take any risk at all
But when I can I will try
Anything at all
I'd have my litlle of
confidence and ego
No matter how much pain
my person goes through
I am willing to taste any drink once
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Sweeet. I'm finally able to post, after my computer stopped being all silly and lame. Well, I'm here! Tis Katie, the semi-noob to y'alls club. You know. The blonde one, short hair, awesome times ten? Huh. Well, whatever. Anyway, I'll pop in and post up that poem I wrote last time derived from the random quote, since, like, that's the entire reason for my posting. Weee!
----------
Let the ear despise nothing,
Nor yet believe anything forthwith.
Quothe lies upon their lips,
To retain such tales & myths
Seems a pleasant folly and
Quick-paced path to death,
But to cast them off and trust
Not words, upon a similar
grave you'll rest.
Though many things one
must not hear, but enough
he has to know–
Divide one's ears by two;
one for truth, another one for bluff.
----------
Let the ear despise nothing,
Nor yet believe anything forthwith.
Quothe lies upon their lips,
To retain such tales & myths
Seems a pleasant folly and
Quick-paced path to death,
But to cast them off and trust
Not words, upon a similar
grave you'll rest.
Though many things one
must not hear, but enough
he has to know–
Divide one's ears by two;
one for truth, another one for bluff.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Howdy
I'd like to thank everyone for coming last night. I think we had a really good meeting with some real nice poems coming out of our exercise. I really hope to see a few of those poems on this blog real soon. Like today, hopefully.
I spoke to Chris last night about Roger Zelazny's "Lord of Light" novel. I would encourage anyone that enjoys science fiction to seek this book out. It truly is one of the great science fiction works. The library owns two copies. We used to have one until I ordered another. I don't have much power but what power I do have attempt to use for good. There is a good review of the book at Sf Site.
I'd like to thank everyone for coming last night. I think we had a really good meeting with some real nice poems coming out of our exercise. I really hope to see a few of those poems on this blog real soon. Like today, hopefully.
I spoke to Chris last night about Roger Zelazny's "Lord of Light" novel. I would encourage anyone that enjoys science fiction to seek this book out. It truly is one of the great science fiction works. The library owns two copies. We used to have one until I ordered another. I don't have much power but what power I do have attempt to use for good. There is a good review of the book at Sf Site.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Meeting Tomorrow
I just want to remind everyone that we are meeting tomorrow at 6 pm at the Morrison Regional Library. Remember to bring something to read. I'll see you there.
If you have an idea for an exercise please let me know. I'm always looking for a new one.
An early reminder for next month: don't forget that we are meeting at the Carmel Library in October. We won't have access to our room here in October due to early voting. The early voting people take over the whole branch in October. It is also just about impossible to find a place to park. If you don't know where the Carmel branch is located you can find the address and a map here.
I just want to remind everyone that we are meeting tomorrow at 6 pm at the Morrison Regional Library. Remember to bring something to read. I'll see you there.
If you have an idea for an exercise please let me know. I'm always looking for a new one.
An early reminder for next month: don't forget that we are meeting at the Carmel Library in October. We won't have access to our room here in October due to early voting. The early voting people take over the whole branch in October. It is also just about impossible to find a place to park. If you don't know where the Carmel branch is located you can find the address and a map here.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Rejected!
Over a month ago I sent a few poems off to a local poetry magazine. On Tuesday I saw sitting on the kitchen table an envelope I had self addressed and sent along with the poems. When I picked the envelope up I could tell it contained the three poems I had mailed off. It surprised me how discouraged I felt for a little while. O! the rejection. How could by babies not be good enough for some local rag? The nerve! I reckon I'll revise them and send them off to another publication.
Over a month ago I sent a few poems off to a local poetry magazine. On Tuesday I saw sitting on the kitchen table an envelope I had self addressed and sent along with the poems. When I picked the envelope up I could tell it contained the three poems I had mailed off. It surprised me how discouraged I felt for a little while. O! the rejection. How could by babies not be good enough for some local rag? The nerve! I reckon I'll revise them and send them off to another publication.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
David Foster Wallace
I don't know how many of you have heard of or read anything by David Foster Wallace. He has an enormous book called Infinite Jest that I have yet to read. All that I have read by him have been his essays. If you ever get a chance you should read the long essay called A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never do Again. It's about a cruise a magazine sent him on hoping to get an article out of it. It's an amazing piece of writing. Whenever you read something by him you just could sense you were reading the writings of someone that saw the universe a little more clearly than you did. He could dig a little deeper and then do the hardest thing in the world, write about what he saw and make you understand. A lot of times he would do that and simultaneously make you laugh.
He was found dead on Friday. Supposedly he committed suicide. He truly was a great writer and it's too bad that, at 46, his output has ended. There is a good remembrance of him here. The quote used in the last paragraph is a good example of Wallace's writing.
I don't know how many of you have heard of or read anything by David Foster Wallace. He has an enormous book called Infinite Jest that I have yet to read. All that I have read by him have been his essays. If you ever get a chance you should read the long essay called A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never do Again. It's about a cruise a magazine sent him on hoping to get an article out of it. It's an amazing piece of writing. Whenever you read something by him you just could sense you were reading the writings of someone that saw the universe a little more clearly than you did. He could dig a little deeper and then do the hardest thing in the world, write about what he saw and make you understand. A lot of times he would do that and simultaneously make you laugh.
He was found dead on Friday. Supposedly he committed suicide. He truly was a great writer and it's too bad that, at 46, his output has ended. There is a good remembrance of him here. The quote used in the last paragraph is a good example of Wallace's writing.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Different Kinds of Fantasy Stories
I hate to keep stealing from Michael Swanwick but he has a nice post here about different types of fantasy stories.
I hate to keep stealing from Michael Swanwick but he has a nice post here about different types of fantasy stories.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Another Call for Submissions
Hey guys, here's one for the science fiction writers. John Joseph Adams, who put together a good apocalyptic short story collection recently, has an open call for short stories about galactic empires. Sounds like fun, no?
Hey guys, here's one for the science fiction writers. John Joseph Adams, who put together a good apocalyptic short story collection recently, has an open call for short stories about galactic empires. Sounds like fun, no?
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Meeting This Thursday
Howdy, don't forget we are meeting this Thursday at 6 pm at the Morrison Regional Library. Also don't forget to bring something to read, it can be something you wrote or something you just plain like. See you then.
My Dog is my Hero
Do you love your dog? Have you had a dog that has enriched your life? Is your dog your hero? If so, submit a 850 to 1100 word story to this anthology. Good luck. We have a miniature dachshund that barks at everything that walks, runs and pedals. Can that make him my hero?
Howdy, don't forget we are meeting this Thursday at 6 pm at the Morrison Regional Library. Also don't forget to bring something to read, it can be something you wrote or something you just plain like. See you then.
My Dog is my Hero
Do you love your dog? Have you had a dog that has enriched your life? Is your dog your hero? If so, submit a 850 to 1100 word story to this anthology. Good luck. We have a miniature dachshund that barks at everything that walks, runs and pedals. Can that make him my hero?
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Short Story Contest for the Politically Minded
Actually, it's short short story contest. You can read about it here.
Actually, it's short short story contest. You can read about it here.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
A Poem
I don't remember if I posted this here already or not but it has been revised a little bit so I guess it really doesn't matter. Changes have been to my grammar mistakes.
The Break In
A broken pane,
a window unlocked from the outside.
Empty spaces where
familiar belongings sat.
Here there was an Xbox.
Here there was a box of DVDs.
Here, in this coffee cup, I had cash.
Here, on this rack, I had CDs.
Once I owned the Lord of the Rings Trilogy
(expanded edition)
Now I don't have disk one.
Not a single book stolen.
The October night blows in through
the desecrated back window.
It's an unfriendly wind
we shouldn't feel inside.
Inside it should be candles
blankets and beer.
Now it's police, a chill
and fear.
I don't remember if I posted this here already or not but it has been revised a little bit so I guess it really doesn't matter. Changes have been to my grammar mistakes.
The Break In
A broken pane,
a window unlocked from the outside.
Empty spaces where
familiar belongings sat.
Here there was an Xbox.
Here there was a box of DVDs.
Here, in this coffee cup, I had cash.
Here, on this rack, I had CDs.
Once I owned the Lord of the Rings Trilogy
(expanded edition)
Now I don't have disk one.
Not a single book stolen.
The October night blows in through
the desecrated back window.
It's an unfriendly wind
we shouldn't feel inside.
Inside it should be candles
blankets and beer.
Now it's police, a chill
and fear.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
I saw something on the news and I thought it should be shared. They say they may have found a cure for Alzhiemers. They're still testing it, so it's a maybe, but still. According to the study, in just 4 weeks memory has improved enough to count backwards, ad remember 4-5 names. since a very good author has Alzhiemer's, I thought this was an important post. Maybe not... you decide...
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
October Meeing
I just had a flash of genius today. Remember how I said October could be trouble because early voting was going to monopolize the room we use? I just talked to the Carmel branch and their room is free on the fourth Thursday of October. Would anyone have a problem with meeting at the Carmel branch? If that is too far out of the way I can also check with the Scaleybark Branch. What do you think?
I just had a flash of genius today. Remember how I said October could be trouble because early voting was going to monopolize the room we use? I just talked to the Carmel branch and their room is free on the fourth Thursday of October. Would anyone have a problem with meeting at the Carmel branch? If that is too far out of the way I can also check with the Scaleybark Branch. What do you think?
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
On Writing
A couple of years ago I read a fascinating book called The Annunciation of Francesca Dunn by Janis Hallowell. It's about a teenage girl who believes that the baby she is carrying may be the next coming of Jesus Christ. It's one of those rare modern literary novels that is enjoyable. It explores many different themes yet still tells a good story. She has a new book out called She Was. I am about to go and ask the brains downtown to buy it for the library.
The reason I mention her is that she has a nice essay here on the nature of writing fiction. It's pretty good with some nice insight. Give it a looksee.
A couple of years ago I read a fascinating book called The Annunciation of Francesca Dunn by Janis Hallowell. It's about a teenage girl who believes that the baby she is carrying may be the next coming of Jesus Christ. It's one of those rare modern literary novels that is enjoyable. It explores many different themes yet still tells a good story. She has a new book out called She Was. I am about to go and ask the brains downtown to buy it for the library.
The reason I mention her is that she has a nice essay here on the nature of writing fiction. It's pretty good with some nice insight. Give it a looksee.
Monday, July 28, 2008
EXTRA BELATED POST
I suppose as the official keeper of the pass-around stories, I should take better care with them.
Anyway, I post them in order according to the alphabetical place of the first letter of the first word of each, just to dispel any notion that either Matthew or I is better because our story came first or kept best for last. As it happens, the one I started comes alphabetically first, so here goes:
Jeremy is a time-traveler, zipping through the conduits of space-time to the '05 time traveler convention.
He decides at once that he can't time travel without his Terry Pratchett Super Duper action figures of Disky Awesomeness (tm).
So, to avoid the almost fatalistic (methinks I spy an incorrectly used adjective) catastrophe of the loss of the possession of his dolls (excuse me, rare collectibles), he, not noticing the passing hours, leaves to go home
and watch the Simpsons instead. "Ahhhh...", he thinks as he lies back on his couch and plants a big luscious kiss on the faces of every last one of his 'rare collectibles'. "If I didn't have my dolls, I bet
my life would be so empty." After all, what is a decent time traveler without their oh-so-perfect do-- ahem, rare collectibles, socks, television, cocoa puffs,
and pie. "My wonderful pie making skills are what led me to you," he said to one of his dolls as he went over to the oven to
get his pie, but as he reached down a piece of hot sizzling peach preserves into his eye. (Lauren, I know that one was you. What did I ever do to deserve this betrayal?)
His super eyes retained no damage and absorbed the nutrients. (Woo! Go whoever that was! Think it was Clare. If so, I see we're channeling some Dr. McNinja.)
"Crap," thought all of his rare collectibles.
With the nutrients, he might be moving on from his rare collectibles...
and get into Raggedy- Ann instead.
#2:
The french toast flopped onto the grill with a "phhpt-skssss." (Guys, check out Matthew's profile and marvel at his lack of creativity. )
The grease spattered up and hit the cook in his eye. He screamed "My eye!!" (Ed is a very straightforward kind of person.)
He ran, half-blind, searching for the first-aid kit.
While the pots thought of (how) snobby the living room furniture are (is.)
His grasping hands found the kit, only for his non-greased eye to register that it was empty.
Empty, that is, except for a ferret
who told him he hated french toast.
But ferrets don't talk, he thought to himself in dramatic soap opera fashion then said aloud "gotta stop drinking the terpintine (turpentine?) after work." (I still wanna know who wrote that part.)
The ferret then stared at him thoughtfully. "I do know how to fix your eye," it said. But the man only shrugged and said to himself "ferrets can't talk."
But the ferret could talk in a slow, weird voice.
A voice echoing the painful tone of Carol Channing,
who at the moment, was disgruntled that her name was Carol Channing, and not something more awesome, like ED or MICHAEL JACKSON or BRITNEY SPEARZ. (?)
That's when the cook finally keeled over dead when the grease reached his brain.
The ferret showed a toothy grin-- since ferrets can OBVIOUSLY smile in this way-- and rifled through the man's pockets and stole his wallet.
Well. And that's that. Maybe one day we'll be metaphorically as well as physically on the same page and be able to churn out a coherent narrative. I say next meeting we do them in first-person POV!
I suppose as the official keeper of the pass-around stories, I should take better care with them.
Anyway, I post them in order according to the alphabetical place of the first letter of the first word of each, just to dispel any notion that either Matthew or I is better because our story came first or kept best for last. As it happens, the one I started comes alphabetically first, so here goes:
Jeremy is a time-traveler, zipping through the conduits of space-time to the '05 time traveler convention.
He decides at once that he can't time travel without his Terry Pratchett Super Duper action figures of Disky Awesomeness (tm).
So, to avoid the almost fatalistic (methinks I spy an incorrectly used adjective) catastrophe of the loss of the possession of his dolls (excuse me, rare collectibles), he, not noticing the passing hours, leaves to go home
and watch the Simpsons instead. "Ahhhh...", he thinks as he lies back on his couch and plants a big luscious kiss on the faces of every last one of his 'rare collectibles'. "If I didn't have my dolls, I bet
my life would be so empty." After all, what is a decent time traveler without their oh-so-perfect do-- ahem, rare collectibles, socks, television, cocoa puffs,
and pie. "My wonderful pie making skills are what led me to you," he said to one of his dolls as he went over to the oven to
get his pie, but as he reached down a piece of hot sizzling peach preserves into his eye. (Lauren, I know that one was you. What did I ever do to deserve this betrayal?)
His super eyes retained no damage and absorbed the nutrients. (Woo! Go whoever that was! Think it was Clare. If so, I see we're channeling some Dr. McNinja.)
"Crap," thought all of his rare collectibles.
With the nutrients, he might be moving on from his rare collectibles...
and get into Raggedy- Ann instead.
#2:
The french toast flopped onto the grill with a "phhpt-skssss." (Guys, check out Matthew's profile and marvel at his lack of creativity. )
The grease spattered up and hit the cook in his eye. He screamed "My eye!!" (Ed is a very straightforward kind of person.)
He ran, half-blind, searching for the first-aid kit.
While the pots thought of (how) snobby the living room furniture are (is.)
His grasping hands found the kit, only for his non-greased eye to register that it was empty.
Empty, that is, except for a ferret
who told him he hated french toast.
But ferrets don't talk, he thought to himself in dramatic soap opera fashion then said aloud "gotta stop drinking the terpintine (turpentine?) after work." (I still wanna know who wrote that part.)
The ferret then stared at him thoughtfully. "I do know how to fix your eye," it said. But the man only shrugged and said to himself "ferrets can't talk."
But the ferret could talk in a slow, weird voice.
A voice echoing the painful tone of Carol Channing,
who at the moment, was disgruntled that her name was Carol Channing, and not something more awesome, like ED or MICHAEL JACKSON or BRITNEY SPEARZ. (?)
That's when the cook finally keeled over dead when the grease reached his brain.
The ferret showed a toothy grin-- since ferrets can OBVIOUSLY smile in this way-- and rifled through the man's pockets and stole his wallet.
Well. And that's that. Maybe one day we'll be metaphorically as well as physically on the same page and be able to churn out a coherent narrative. I say next meeting we do them in first-person POV!
Saturday, July 26, 2008
The chorus to a mashed up remix thingy (Burnin Up by the Jonas Brothers) total mash up by me and 2 of my friends. We call ourselves HMH
Here it is:
I'm slippin into the llama
And I'm tryin to keep from stealing a panda
Baby, You make the black sheep hotter
I'm burnin up, Burnin up for you
__________________________
sing your name
--Hannah
Here it is:
I'm slippin into the llama
And I'm tryin to keep from stealing a panda
Baby, You make the black sheep hotter
I'm burnin up, Burnin up for you
__________________________
sing your name
--Hannah
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Free SF Short Story
It's by John Scalzi. It's set in his Old Man's War universe. You can read it here. Sorry about the missing link. It now be fixed.
It's by John Scalzi. It's set in his Old Man's War universe. You can read it here. Sorry about the missing link. It now be fixed.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
HEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This might be an entirely pointless post, but just to let you know: if you are ages 12-18, get down to Imaginon and submit something to their new literary magazine. (At the Loft.) Anything works, so long's the profanity isn't too bad and you keep the subject matter under control. Fiction, nonfiction, articles, everything goes. Patrice the librarian will love you forever, and me too for successfully getting people to submit stuff.
This might be an entirely pointless post, but just to let you know: if you are ages 12-18, get down to Imaginon and submit something to their new literary magazine. (At the Loft.) Anything works, so long's the profanity isn't too bad and you keep the subject matter under control. Fiction, nonfiction, articles, everything goes. Patrice the librarian will love you forever, and me too for successfully getting people to submit stuff.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Robert Silverberg
This is an author who has not come up in any of our meetings but he is a writer that I have enjoyed several times. He wrote a great book called Lord Valentine's Castle. It's fantasy/science fiction adventure novel set on an alien world where sentient aliens stand in for fantasy creatures and advanced technology stands in for magic. I never read any of the sequels though. I'm not sure why. I think because the book was so good I felt it stood alone so well that it didn't need sequels? Something like that.
He's interesting because he straddles a couple of different eras of SF. He was there with the classic old pulp writers and he helped expand SF in the new wave of the sixties. That comes out in the nice interview with him here.
This is an author who has not come up in any of our meetings but he is a writer that I have enjoyed several times. He wrote a great book called Lord Valentine's Castle. It's fantasy/science fiction adventure novel set on an alien world where sentient aliens stand in for fantasy creatures and advanced technology stands in for magic. I never read any of the sequels though. I'm not sure why. I think because the book was so good I felt it stood alone so well that it didn't need sequels? Something like that.
He's interesting because he straddles a couple of different eras of SF. He was there with the classic old pulp writers and he helped expand SF in the new wave of the sixties. That comes out in the nice interview with him here.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
This is what i read in the meeting from Paris 2005; A novel of suspense. (This is not all of it, but this is the best part.)
"The venison was delicious,pink inside and puent with gamey flavor, graced by a few string beans. The wine was extraordinary, its round, dark taste almost too strong for her, but it matched the venison. It was a man's meal.
They finished the bottle withsome heavy yellow cheese, Tomme de Savoie. Valerie wiped her lips with the linen napkin.
'I want to sleep with you,' She said.
He looked down at the last of the wine in his glass.
'Someday, when the Revolution is over, I will be able to live again with my wife and son.'
'Let me love you. You will not be the first that i have loved and lost.'
He looked at her, his eyes steady and sad. 'I am responsible for you.'
'Yes'
'I might need to ask you to die for me.'
She nodded.
'Or, not even ask.'
'I understand.'
She stood up. 'Is this the bedroom?'
'Yes... So, I am seduced.'"
Right here I'm going to leave out most of this, so the blog won't be flagged or anything, but i will say this "He was gentel and efficien..." Hmmmm, I have no idea (hint hint) what that means, and i urge you not to guess either. Contenuing.
"They woke early. He scrambled eggs for her and made taost in an old-fashioned toaster with flat metal sides that folded away from the heating element. He gave her fresh oranges to squeeze for juice and had to show her how; in her family, they had never squeezd fresh oranges. The coffee was hot and strong, with heavy cream floating at the top.
'You wil corrupt me with toast and orange juice.' she told him, smiling."
And ther you have iit. Enjoy.
"The venison was delicious,pink inside and puent with gamey flavor, graced by a few string beans. The wine was extraordinary, its round, dark taste almost too strong for her, but it matched the venison. It was a man's meal.
They finished the bottle withsome heavy yellow cheese, Tomme de Savoie. Valerie wiped her lips with the linen napkin.
'I want to sleep with you,' She said.
He looked down at the last of the wine in his glass.
'Someday, when the Revolution is over, I will be able to live again with my wife and son.'
'Let me love you. You will not be the first that i have loved and lost.'
He looked at her, his eyes steady and sad. 'I am responsible for you.'
'Yes'
'I might need to ask you to die for me.'
She nodded.
'Or, not even ask.'
'I understand.'
She stood up. 'Is this the bedroom?'
'Yes... So, I am seduced.'"
Right here I'm going to leave out most of this, so the blog won't be flagged or anything, but i will say this "He was gentel and efficien..." Hmmmm, I have no idea (hint hint) what that means, and i urge you not to guess either. Contenuing.
"They woke early. He scrambled eggs for her and made taost in an old-fashioned toaster with flat metal sides that folded away from the heating element. He gave her fresh oranges to squeeze for juice and had to show her how; in her family, they had never squeezd fresh oranges. The coffee was hot and strong, with heavy cream floating at the top.
'You wil corrupt me with toast and orange juice.' she told him, smiling."
And ther you have iit. Enjoy.
Last meeting's minutes/ important facts.
Who was there: Natalie, Mich, Jake, Claire, Lauren, Meghan, Grace, Matthew, Ed, And new member Jamie.
We have a new member, Jamie. Matthew read condensed versions of famous literature. Ed recited a poem that e wrote in 1992, which was published. Mich read a passage from Paradise Lost. Natalie read a section from her vampire story. Jake and Mitch both read "romance" passages from their books, which were quite wierd and hilarious. Ed had us do an exercise were we had to write a sotry like the ones in Mitch's and Jake's books. Claire, Meghan, and Lauren all came in late, but Megahn and Lauren brought in bread and cheese for everyone to share, so they're ok, and Claire was working, so she's excused. Mitch won the exercise, with Jamie and Ed tied in second and close. That's the minutes by Jake Raynor.*
*please note any spelling errors and comment on them, if you have and questons or concerns, please let me know.
Who was there: Natalie, Mich, Jake, Claire, Lauren, Meghan, Grace, Matthew, Ed, And new member Jamie.
We have a new member, Jamie. Matthew read condensed versions of famous literature. Ed recited a poem that e wrote in 1992, which was published. Mich read a passage from Paradise Lost. Natalie read a section from her vampire story. Jake and Mitch both read "romance" passages from their books, which were quite wierd and hilarious. Ed had us do an exercise were we had to write a sotry like the ones in Mitch's and Jake's books. Claire, Meghan, and Lauren all came in late, but Megahn and Lauren brought in bread and cheese for everyone to share, so they're ok, and Claire was working, so she's excused. Mitch won the exercise, with Jamie and Ed tied in second and close. That's the minutes by Jake Raynor.*
*please note any spelling errors and comment on them, if you have and questons or concerns, please let me know.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Robert Sawyer Lecture on SF
I found this lecture on Robert Sawyer's website. It's an excellent analysis of what makes good and bad science fiction. I highly recommend giving it a listen.
I found this lecture on Robert Sawyer's website. It's an excellent analysis of what makes good and bad science fiction. I highly recommend giving it a listen.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
PASS-AROUND STORIES
These made just a little more sense than last meeting's. Kudos once again to our resident perverse minds for not adding eyeless people.
The one Matthew started:
She grasped it firmly, yet efficiently, and (injoke!!11!)
turned on the shower.
The shower was very hot.
She threw her head back and moved her hand for a more secure grasp. (Officially the most perverted meeting ever, by the way.)
Grime, dull like the patina of sin
dripped
down her calves
The dirt swarmed around her on the floor of the shower. (What had this girl been doing?)
She turned the heat up on the shower head. Seeing the steam swarm around her.
She tried to organize her thoughts and feelings.
And failed . Because the shower was that epic. (Sorry, there's no underline option on this typer-majig.)
AND the story that I started (best for last):
In a dark alley, Spiderman stands motionless. Far above his head, a brick dislodges...and tumbles downward...
Spiderman reaches out his arm to casually catch it, when a speeding car bounces over the curb and hits him in the chest. MJ yelps.
"No problem," said Spiderman from underneath the car. It'll take more than a Dodge Charger (?) to take me out." "Oh, Spidey," said MJ, "I'm the luckiest girl in the whole world."
Then the brick, which had been dislodged from Spidey's hand when the car hit, bounced off the building and cracked open MJ's head.
"Oh no!" Spiderman said. "I don't have a girlfriend anymore! This is horrible!" He angsted for approximately twenty seconds. Suddenly, Harry Osborne (Osbourne?) walked by. "Hey Spiderman!" Harry said, "Wanna make out?" Spiderman paused, reflecting on his newly-dead girlfriend. "Yeah, OK!"
And in the next state, a taxman's pencil snapped.
"What the hell is this?" Taxman, aka Shithead (pronounced "Shih-theed", you immature people.) "This crap makes no sense! I want to make out with Spiderman, dammit!"
Just then the door burst open, and Spiderman and Harry Osborne came walking in hand in hand. Spiderman was wearing a pink sleeveless costume.
Taxman stared. And stared. And stared. Then decided to purchase his own pink costume and become a super villain in order to make out with Spiderman and Spiderman's large, pink muscles.
That was epic, bees or no. Really, when did the idea that you need bees to be epic come about? (But that does qualify Ros and Guil are Dead as epic: Hamlet, the sexiest bee!)
I urge people to post their horrible romance novel passages on the blog. Do it. Now.
These made just a little more sense than last meeting's. Kudos once again to our resident perverse minds for not adding eyeless people.
The one Matthew started:
She grasped it firmly, yet efficiently, and (injoke!!11!)
turned on the shower.
The shower was very hot.
She threw her head back and moved her hand for a more secure grasp. (Officially the most perverted meeting ever, by the way.)
Grime, dull like the patina of sin
dripped
down her calves
The dirt swarmed around her on the floor of the shower. (What had this girl been doing?)
She turned the heat up on the shower head. Seeing the steam swarm around her.
She tried to organize her thoughts and feelings.
And failed . Because the shower was that epic. (Sorry, there's no underline option on this typer-majig.)
AND the story that I started (best for last):
In a dark alley, Spiderman stands motionless. Far above his head, a brick dislodges...and tumbles downward...
Spiderman reaches out his arm to casually catch it, when a speeding car bounces over the curb and hits him in the chest. MJ yelps.
"No problem," said Spiderman from underneath the car. It'll take more than a Dodge Charger (?) to take me out." "Oh, Spidey," said MJ, "I'm the luckiest girl in the whole world."
Then the brick, which had been dislodged from Spidey's hand when the car hit, bounced off the building and cracked open MJ's head.
"Oh no!" Spiderman said. "I don't have a girlfriend anymore! This is horrible!" He angsted for approximately twenty seconds. Suddenly, Harry Osborne (Osbourne?) walked by. "Hey Spiderman!" Harry said, "Wanna make out?" Spiderman paused, reflecting on his newly-dead girlfriend. "Yeah, OK!"
And in the next state, a taxman's pencil snapped.
"What the hell is this?" Taxman, aka Shithead (pronounced "Shih-theed", you immature people.) "This crap makes no sense! I want to make out with Spiderman, dammit!"
Just then the door burst open, and Spiderman and Harry Osborne came walking in hand in hand. Spiderman was wearing a pink sleeveless costume.
Taxman stared. And stared. And stared. Then decided to purchase his own pink costume and become a super villain in order to make out with Spiderman and Spiderman's large, pink muscles.
That was epic, bees or no. Really, when did the idea that you need bees to be epic come about? (But that does qualify Ros and Guil are Dead as epic: Hamlet, the sexiest bee!)
I urge people to post their horrible romance novel passages on the blog. Do it. Now.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Reading
Before I get into what I wanted to write about I want to remind everyone that we are meeting this Thursday at six pm at the Morrison Library's conference. Everyone better show up because I am on vacation this week and I am coming in Thursday just for the meeting.
As far as that internet messing up our reading skills I do have to say that I do find that I often will print out an article if I want to give it a good reading. Especially at work. I think it's nice that the library doesn't limit our surfing. I find that surfing community blogs like Metafilter and Lifehacker and news sites like New York Times and the Charlotte Observer help me at work. You never know what is going to come at you at the reference desk and you have to be informed and know how to move around the internet.
I did find an excellent post about research habits on the internet here by Scott Karp. He is quoted in that article about the possibility of Google making us stupid. Like Nicholas Carr said in his article about research and reading on the internet we do tend to skim when we read on the internet but, as Karp points out, that is not a bad thing. I think the two styles of reading can live side by side. I skim over internet articles and I'll read some of them closely. I still sit back with a book and let it carry me away.
In some ways the internet can be like television with sites like Youtube out there that allow you to mindlessly watch videos of hillbillies jumping motorcycles over flaming barrels but there are also some pretty amazing and creative videos on Youtube. To me the internet is like any kind of media. It offers the worst and best of what humans have created. It's up to you use it wisely. There is nothing wrong with watching a guy jump a mountain bike into the side of a building but it's not what you want to do with all your time.
I don't want to leave you that. Check out this this video of Donald Hall and Alicia Ostriker. It's about what it means to write and read.
Before I get into what I wanted to write about I want to remind everyone that we are meeting this Thursday at six pm at the Morrison Library's conference. Everyone better show up because I am on vacation this week and I am coming in Thursday just for the meeting.
As far as that internet messing up our reading skills I do have to say that I do find that I often will print out an article if I want to give it a good reading. Especially at work. I think it's nice that the library doesn't limit our surfing. I find that surfing community blogs like Metafilter and Lifehacker and news sites like New York Times and the Charlotte Observer help me at work. You never know what is going to come at you at the reference desk and you have to be informed and know how to move around the internet.
I did find an excellent post about research habits on the internet here by Scott Karp. He is quoted in that article about the possibility of Google making us stupid. Like Nicholas Carr said in his article about research and reading on the internet we do tend to skim when we read on the internet but, as Karp points out, that is not a bad thing. I think the two styles of reading can live side by side. I skim over internet articles and I'll read some of them closely. I still sit back with a book and let it carry me away.
In some ways the internet can be like television with sites like Youtube out there that allow you to mindlessly watch videos of hillbillies jumping motorcycles over flaming barrels but there are also some pretty amazing and creative videos on Youtube. To me the internet is like any kind of media. It offers the worst and best of what humans have created. It's up to you use it wisely. There is nothing wrong with watching a guy jump a mountain bike into the side of a building but it's not what you want to do with all your time.
I don't want to leave you that. Check out this this video of Donald Hall and Alicia Ostriker. It's about what it means to write and read.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
...our writing equipment takes part in the forming of our thoughts
According to Nicholas Carr Nietzsche said that. The article I linked to is in the current issue of the Atlantic Monthly and in it Carr ponders what it means for our minds now that we rely so much on the Internet for our research. Diane Rehm recently did a show on a similar topic.
What struck me early in my reading of the article is Carr's admission that he has a hard time getting into deep reading mode. I noticed that in myself but I hadn't thought to ask around of my readin' friends if they were having the same problem. As a TV raised child of the 70's it took me a while to become a good reader. I don't want to the internet to ruin me as a reader.
According to Nicholas Carr Nietzsche said that. The article I linked to is in the current issue of the Atlantic Monthly and in it Carr ponders what it means for our minds now that we rely so much on the Internet for our research. Diane Rehm recently did a show on a similar topic.
What struck me early in my reading of the article is Carr's admission that he has a hard time getting into deep reading mode. I noticed that in myself but I hadn't thought to ask around of my readin' friends if they were having the same problem. As a TV raised child of the 70's it took me a while to become a good reader. I don't want to the internet to ruin me as a reader.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Cory Doctorow
For those of you that are interested, SF writer Cory Doctorow writes a column for the British newspaper The Guardian. You can view it here.
Hey Jake, where's that story about our meeting?
For those of you that are interested, SF writer Cory Doctorow writes a column for the British newspaper The Guardian. You can view it here.
Hey Jake, where's that story about our meeting?
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
A SF writing workshop for teens
Check it out here. It sounds pretty interesting. You collaborate on creating a fictional world and it's just down the street in Spartanburg, SC.
Check it out here. It sounds pretty interesting. You collaborate on creating a fictional world and it's just down the street in Spartanburg, SC.
Friday, May 30, 2008
The continue-the-story sheet from yesterday's meeting.
A car turned into my driveway
or, rather, into my mailbox
and by car I mean alien spaceship
that is lost looking for...
The magical alien generator that powers all of their appliances eternally!
The alien slowly descended out of the spaceship and I realized it was my...brother!
My brother of course who is not my brother but my uncle who was a secret himself which... (?--I just write things down as they are on the paper, whether or not they make sense)
was revealed to me when Vetinari told Vimes in absolute confidence. Assuming, of course, that "in absolute confidence" means "in bed". But then they...
And I believe it was Mitchell that left us hanging there. But I must commend Matthew and Ed for not mentioning any ...eyes...or lack thereof... And also those people who used proper grammar, punctuation, and spelling. Really, guys! Are we a writer's group or not?
A car turned into my driveway
or, rather, into my mailbox
and by car I mean alien spaceship
that is lost looking for...
The magical alien generator that powers all of their appliances eternally!
The alien slowly descended out of the spaceship and I realized it was my...brother!
My brother of course who is not my brother but my uncle who was a secret himself which... (?--I just write things down as they are on the paper, whether or not they make sense)
was revealed to me when Vetinari told Vimes in absolute confidence. Assuming, of course, that "in absolute confidence" means "in bed". But then they...
And I believe it was Mitchell that left us hanging there. But I must commend Matthew and Ed for not mentioning any ...eyes...or lack thereof... And also those people who used proper grammar, punctuation, and spelling. Really, guys! Are we a writer's group or not?
Howdy
I'd like to thank everyone who came to the meeting last night. I had a lot of fun. I hope our two new participants come next month also.
Who has that sheet we passed around before the meeting ended? Whoever has it should post it to the blog. I also hope Jake posts his minutes/news story about the meeting.
I'd like to thank everyone who came to the meeting last night. I had a lot of fun. I hope our two new participants come next month also.
Who has that sheet we passed around before the meeting ended? Whoever has it should post it to the blog. I also hope Jake posts his minutes/news story about the meeting.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
My Dad's New Cell Phone
Do you think I should expand this or leave it short?
My father calls me on his
new disposable cell phone.
My cell, at my home,
only get one bar.
His voice, distorted like
he's calling through time.
From where he stands
in northern Michigan
he might as well be.
I yell into my phone,
even with his hearing aid
he can't hear a word I say.
From his garbled words
I can tell he's more than a little
miffed at the Detroit Tigers.
Do you think I should expand this or leave it short?
My father calls me on his
new disposable cell phone.
My cell, at my home,
only get one bar.
His voice, distorted like
he's calling through time.
From where he stands
in northern Michigan
he might as well be.
I yell into my phone,
even with his hearing aid
he can't hear a word I say.
From his garbled words
I can tell he's more than a little
miffed at the Detroit Tigers.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Poetry Reading
I've been instructed by a friend to let you guys know that her mother is appearing at Park Road Books this Friday at 7 pm. There, you have been told. Maybe now she'll stop bugging me about it. Seriously, her mom, Dana Wildsmith, is a very good poet. You'll probably have a good time if you go. I'd probably have a good time if I went. I don't leave home anymore ever since I moved into a house. Why go anywhere when you are so comfortable at home, I say.
I've been instructed by a friend to let you guys know that her mother is appearing at Park Road Books this Friday at 7 pm. There, you have been told. Maybe now she'll stop bugging me about it. Seriously, her mom, Dana Wildsmith, is a very good poet. You'll probably have a good time if you go. I'd probably have a good time if I went. I don't leave home anymore ever since I moved into a house. Why go anywhere when you are so comfortable at home, I say.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Chinese Poets
I found this nice website via Metafilter. I've always liked Li Bai, although I used to know him as Li Po. Was he consulted about this change?
I found this nice website via Metafilter. I've always liked Li Bai, although I used to know him as Li Po. Was he consulted about this change?
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Reasons SF series start to stink
This is a pretty nice article on why many, many SF and fantasy series eventually jump the shark.
This is a pretty nice article on why many, many SF and fantasy series eventually jump the shark.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Thunderstorm vs. Volcanic Plume
OK, this has nothing to do with writing, books or science fiction but if you ever wondered what a thunderstorm interacting with a volcanic plume looked like then follow this link. How cool is that? It's a series of photos. Be sure to click the right arrow to see 'em all.
OK, this has nothing to do with writing, books or science fiction but if you ever wondered what a thunderstorm interacting with a volcanic plume looked like then follow this link. How cool is that? It's a series of photos. Be sure to click the right arrow to see 'em all.
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